nothing.
by Loconik
Summary: A mishiro fic in which Mimi comes crawling back after being used.
1. Default Chapter

**Chapter one**

I thought it might be nice to try a change to my normal coupling. I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, and although I know its bad practice I'd post them over time as I go….

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon

*****

I watch him sleeping silently, huddled uncomfortably on the couch, the shadows around his face accentuated by the dim light filtering through the chink in the curtains. His laptop is open and still running, it's back turned to me. I had heard the muffled keystrokes earlier this morning, so he must have just fallen asleep and forgotten to turn it off. The thought of reading what was on the screen never crossed my mind, although before I figured he was just writing code which would be meaningless to me, with the amount I owe him respecting his privacy is by far the least I owe him. 

I still feel sick at myself. Used, dirty, whatever, they all mean the same thing, I reduced myself to what everyone thought I was, something that I had always fought to prove as the contrary. But still the sickness to be accepted and to belong had gained momentum within me, and eventually I became so scared I gave in. 

Its only 4.45am. Although I don't want to face the future I carved for myself, or my own guilt at having had to rely on the one person I could and who I had humiliated and mislead so awfully, I wish he'd wake up so I could gain some reassurance. I know I'm being selfish. I never showed that I cared about him or anyone else, I just acted like they were there for me to treat as my own whims dictated. The others had grown tired of this and disowned me, but he was always there, silently enduring all I had thrown at him, living a precarious existence trapped behind a monitor, forced to give and never receive. And he still hasn't changed. I'm lying in his bed while he's dozing fitfully on the couch after being disturbed in the dead of night by someone timidly knocking at the door. He'd answered, to both my relief and despair, fully dressed despite the time. The insomnia was wearing him down again like it had before. As I cast an eye over the bare walls I remember how  I used to wake up at 2 or 3 am to find him where he was at the moment, typing silently in the darkened lounge. I always asked him why he was still up and he just gave a quiet apology and promised me he'd be in soon, that he'd cracked a problem he'd been working on, that he'd..there was always an excuse. I hate myself now for having had seen his eyes wretched and tired from crying…something had been wrong and I'd completely ignored it. It didn't fit in with my agenda so I'd pretended he was fine. I always asserted that that was what he wanted me to think, and so ultimately it was a win-win situation. 

And yet I had never hesitated to offload all my problems on him, to make him carry them for me. And as much as I've realized the mistake I still continue to do it. Last night had been the most frightening night of my life though, and….I can't make excuses. Even after all I'd done to him he didn't even blink twice when he opened the door to me. 

Yet still, just thinking of what happened leaves me stranded, as much as I don't want to I need him to be what he's always been, the bearer of everyone else's problems and issues, just a spectator for the good times and Atlas when anyone else hit a glitch. As selfish as I know I am the past few weeks of my now miserable existence have been my lowest. I suppose I should explain…


	2. Know thyself

It had been my first year of high school. The others were all there, Sora, Tai, Matt etc, and Izzy. He and I had been dating (I suppose that's what you'd call it) for somewhere near the past year, although it didn't feel to me like we were anything more than two people very dependent on each other. Well, one partner dependent on the other at least. The whole concept of dating and complex relationship difficulties has always been something that's almost angered me; it annoys me how I saw girls my own age crying after guys who had broken up with them, and the whole attitude that was rising at that age of trying to win the other sex over. It just seemed so pointless, any relationship now would inevitably end in nothing, and acting like some heartbroken damsel was such a waste of time. Even now, over a year on I still feel the same way (I can live with being a hypocrite), that teenage relationships are a poorly acted rehearsal for a totally different play, that when you grow up and lose the naivety you realize what an idiot you were, that the actor or that team captain you pined after is nothing more than a myth that will probably end up working in a drive thru or shocking away their lives in a prison cell after battering their bleached-haired wives to death in the back of a cheap house in some no-name town. 

Izzy was different though, he still existed behind that computer screen, but I felt a bond with him. I always had, like we had shared a unique experience (other than the obvious one) and we understood each other subconsciously. Despite my attempts to directly catch his eye during the time we were in the Digital world, he was always buried behind that screen. I felt very little frustration however, as I often caught a glimpse of him looking at me over the top of his computer; they were just small flashes out of the corner of my eye, but I knew he felt the connection.

I didn't dwell on trying to get his attention during that time, I understood he knew for the first time in his life he was an important part of something and actually belonged, he wasn't like a stranger fooled into thinking he was part of something he wasn't. So I concentrated on the task at hand and let him do the same, and when it was all over we all found we were dependent on each other, and we became almost a closed group. 

After it was all over I also found myself more willing to drop the lie I had been living. No one except Izzy believed or believes I am anything more than a selfish shell of a person, who lives her life solely to do the things I always made out I did. Pointless things like going to the mall, cheerleading etc; all pointless pursuits designed to elevate people who have no substance to god like status. As much as they will deny it their fate it secured along with their position. Despite being center of attention in their high school years, dating the boring jock, having perfect skin etc, they will grow to exist in a loveless marriage, have brat kids that hate them, and end up having nothing more than a trail of divorces and straggly bleached hair. They will never be anything more than a leech on someone who actually makes the effort, whether it be the jock or the alcoholic advertising executive they eventually marry.

I knew of that future and knew that had I actually been what I made myself out as, that would have been mine. Despite my outward appearance and attitude, I gain a secret sense of satisfaction in being smarter than anyone will ever know. The high grades amaze them, but I think being fully aware of what is happening around you and how to effectively manipulate it is of greater personal wealth. 

Irony of course lies beneath my existence however. Despite priding myself on possessing intelligence, I gain greater satisfaction from and feel better about myself when I act like a shell. 

As much as I despise it now, dressing to accentuate what I've got always gave me a sense of power as well. To see guys literally pause in their stride to look at me gave me a feeling of utter control. The games people play hmm?

So at that time when our lives were beginning to return to normal I was still acting as I've just described, no one suspected anything, but I was burning on the inside. I'd always had a feeling on insecurity, and playing on peoples emotions and desires had got me accepted and made me feel wanted, but I was fast beginning painfully aware that all anyone ever saw of me was the airhead capable of laughing at their jokes and being there as a tool to flaunt to their friends to say 'look what I got!'. Eventually I became desperate to lose the façade and act as the real me, but I knew the instant I did that the huge group of false friends from whom I gained my sense of belonging from would instantly fade. Thankfully at that time I still had the others, my real friends. Although they only knew the false me, they understood that better than anyone else, and they would be the most willing to accept and support me through the change I so wanted to make.

And so I made the change. I discarded the pink outfits which so accentuated what I had, and I became far more conservative. This was the first and most symbolic step. It was also by far the most difficult. I bought the clothes that I had always wanted to wear, but kept them in my wardrobe for over a week as I tried to build up the courage to face losing the image I hated yet had depended on. One morning I woke up and heard the rain outside, and for some reason that day seemed right. So I made the largest change for (hopefully) the better. Needless to say when I arrived at school everyone who had ever seen me or knew of me (and that was most of the school) were shocked, and my popularity halved from that moment. The 'friends' I had made blatantly damned and questioned my new look, and it was only a matter of days before I effectively became another face in the crowd.

It was difficult seeing the empire I had created crumble in less than a week, it showed just how superficial a life I had been leading. I shed some blood over those days. I was so unsure if what I was doing was a smart move, did I really want the real me to be the one people saw? I had always scorned intelligence; it was seen as a negative attribute which I used to my advantage. The dumber I acted the more popular I became. Despite my public slandering of it I loved knowledge. Not necessarily just literary works, physics always fascinated me, the complexity of the theories and the sheer brilliance of the minds behind them always inspired me to learn more. Compared to my old image this seems so outlandish it is laughable. I suppose it highlights the immensity of the change I had to make were I to let the real me shine. 

And so with my appearance and clothes changed to what I felt comfortable in I was set to let my real mind and personality free. I lost the few remaining false friends I had made and made the Tai, Sora, Matt and the others feel more wanted. They are all such great people, and I felt bad having effectively shunned them for so long. They all accepted the new me, and I was on the road to what I thought would be happiness. 

So I'd managed to recreate myself as the opposite of everything I had appeared to be, and was on the way to living the life I wanted. I still wanted to change many things, but at that stage I'd noticed Izzy seemed to be different..…the way he acted was a pointer to things to come.


End file.
